Newest
a love letterthis love doesn't work any more. it is a broken wounded thing limping on crutches made of sex and clinging hugs.a love letter
the great wheel has rusted the pistons clanking noisy metal symphonies of the end.
a thing of beauty while it lasted pastels and intellectual conversations syrupy kisses and silky touches.
it has slowly spiraled into nothingness
there is relief in the end a release of the chains that bind
me with my cheap chardonnay and sad poetry
you with your fucking artist hands and beautiful work
by ~yourownending
this love is a cross to beara love that is a wounded pitiful thing self aware and drowning in loathingthis love is a cross to bear
we must be quiet not one betrayed footstep
we will tiptoe and find its hiding place deep in the slimy cold recesses of this heart
we will chloroform it render it inert and limp
we will sling it over our shoulders share this monstrous burden we birthed
we will take it out into the fields before it can wake and infect us again
we will be quiet not one snapped twig
bury? beat it? whatever we choose it will submit to reality. &nbs
by ~yourownending
Truth:the great equalizer'im glad it happened'Truth:the great equalizer
he slurs carelessly. alcohol sharpened words and jagged theories dripping from his once beautiful mouth. reducing me to a cautionary tale.
'you are the hill that prompted me
to set my standards of love at mt. everest'
saccharine metaphors and bitter honesty. small and compact i am a stepping stone to an unknown
and infinitely more glorious future.
a hill. a tale. a stone. at the very least, not a whore and cheat anymore.
by ~yourownending
Favourites
cigaretteI think a cigarette would best helpcigarette
to describe how i feel, I'd sit on my patio with my legs drawn up under me, I'd lean against something in the grey damp of november and I'd smoke and let tears fall
as i watch the air
for invisible particles. paricles of smoke, city grime and of me. watch the sky for a bomb smoke draw and let the tears itch and dry
on my cheeks that would be the end of detached me, and I'd burn it and inhale,
how appropriate,
and the taste would stay with me,
my hands my hair, acrid.
by ~personaldecay
Cigarettes On BackroadsI catch a glimpse of my collarbones in the mirror I am reminded of the time you said they were beautiful It was the last time that you touched themCigarettes On Backroads
I remember how we were together How we must have looked like shards of glass Beautiful but Jagged Our pieces never quite fit We wanted them to so badly We pretended it was right To help ease our minds
I used up all of my breath trying to make you understand That I was willing to stand by you You never could comprehend That someone could love you like I do So you ran Because it was new &nbs
by ~oryxandcrake
Watchers
Journal
No journal entries yet.
deviantID
No deviantID yet.
Devious Info
- Current Residence: Saudi Arabia
- Favourite artist: Chagall
- Favourite poet or writer: Pablo Neruda, Jodi Picoult
- MP3 player of choice: iPod
- Favourite cartoon character: Betty Boop
- Personal Quote: I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance/eecummings
- Tools of the Trade: keyboard...when feeling archaic, pen and paper
deviantART Community Board
Comments
No comments have been added yet.
Sign up to leave a message! 
Site Map
©2009 deviantART. All rights reserved
